


stay with me

by shouldbeworking



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Post-Canon, reckless disregard for firearm safety, that is not a euphemism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shouldbeworking/pseuds/shouldbeworking
Summary: Q: How do you catch a Crow and pin him down?A: You don’t.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 31
Kudos: 804





	stay with me

Ren turns away from his closed window, stares sightlessly up at the roof of the train. He did it. He made it. One year, a full year. Probation complete. Cleared. Exonerated. This year, this city, these people chewed him up, spit him out. They drilled a hole in his chest, taped over what remained, told him he should be grateful and he was.

It doesn’t feel good, but it feels right. He wouldn’t trade any of it for the world, and he didn’t. And now he’s free—and now it’s time to go home.

The ride back is a few hours even by train. Just too long for a drive, just too short for a flight, the perfect distance for no one to bother visiting him for an entire year. And time enough for a nap too, Ren figures, taking a cue from Mona. He leans back against his seat, wiggles a bit to get comfortable, and lets his eyes fall closed.

When he wakes, the next time he looks out that window, he’ll be far away from it all. His friends, his attic, his…

His seat is moving.

The jostling breaks whatever shaky truce his head and neck made with this train’s extraordinarily upright headrest and ruins the little self-indulgent pity-party he’d started for himself at the same time, which is rude but probably for the best. Ren opens his eyes, meaning to find a new comfortable spot and begin the process all over again when he finds Goro Akechi sitting beside him.

“Convenient that you’re here,” Akechi says, twisting in his seat to look somewhere behind him. “Your tails and my captors don’t seem to be all too fond of each other.”

Oh, nice.

Wait. What?

Akechi, _Goro Akechi_ —in his blazer and his tie and his gloves and everything. Close enough to touch. Ren could reach out and touch him right now.

He pinches himself on the arm instead.

“Akechi!?” Mona pops out of his bag and shakes his little head in disbelief.

So Mona sees him too, which is good evidence in itself and then Akechi sneers—he _sneers_ , in that way that lights up his whole face, and Ren has never been so relieved to see anything in his life. Goro Akechi is alive. That sneer means Akechi is here, really here, and he’s alive and he’s real and he was real before too, and—and Akechi pushes Mona down into the bag by the top of his head.

“ _Hey!_ ”

“Try and employ some discretion, would you?” Akechi snaps, zipping the bag shut over Mona’s muffled protests. He glances back behind their seat again, peering carefully down the aisle. “Shit, they made it on.”

Ren chances a look too—finds a few scattered passengers, an attendant bussing the car behind them, and in the distance… ah. Two men in black suits.

“Shut up,” Akechi says before Ren can open his mouth, “come on,” then there’s a gloved hand around his wrist, hot leather against his skin, contact, he’s _real._ Ren just barely remembers to grab the Mona bag before Akechi is whirling him away to something new and exciting. He follows behind, still acclimating, still recalibrating, because sitting stagnate for two months without a rival to push him was two months too long and in the wake of the constant storm that is Goro Akechi he feels slow, stupid, out of practice.

But at least he’s awake. Blood pumping in his ears, vision sharp and narrowed, muscles tightening. Oh, Ren missed this.

They dash into the next car as stealthily as a well-lit, one-aisle metal tube allows them to be and duck into a new set of seats. Borrowed time, because those suits will inevitably search this car as well, but time is everything in an escape.

“I’m a valuable commodity, it turns out,” Akechi murmurs, releasing his hold on Ren’s wrist and adjusting his gloves. “They’re attempting to get me back in a lab because without my services to keep the more rabid dogs at bay they’re as good as dead. I’ve been in and out of their clutches these last few months.”

 _They?_ Ren wants to ask. _Lab? Back in a lab? Clutches? Months?_

“So you did survive,” he says instead, because it’s worth saying.

“Obviously,” Akechi says. He adds an overdramatic roll of the eyes, but he’s smiling too.

“How?”

“Not important.”

Ren immediately recognizes this as Akechi-speak for _I don’t know_ , or _I don’t remember._ Not so rusty after all, then. His smile grows wider.

They travel a few more cars down in the same fashion—keeping an eye out behind them, ducking away, taking shelter amongst the seats and other passengers and catching up with furtive whispers and coded language.

“ _I heard your record was expunged. Should I offer my congratulations?_ ”

_“Maruki? Are you serious, Ren?”_

“ _You haven’t managed to find a way back to the—that place, have you?_ ”

Until, too quickly, they reach the front car. Nowhere left to run.

Ren and Akechi stay near the back wall this time rather than hiding amongst the seats, as close to the door as they can get. Two men in black suits will be walking through that door at any moment. “They’ll enter the car, and then one of two possibilities will occur,” Akechi whispers. “They’ll miss us standing right next to them and walk up the front of the car, giving us a few seconds for a head start. Or, they’ll see us immediately.”

“We’ve fought worse,” Ren says, trying to keep things light because Akechi looks genuinely concerned.

“When is the next stop?”

“Half an hour now.”

“ _Shit_.”

Akechi’s hand keeps drifting to his hip, ghosting against a weapon that isn’t there. Ren scans the car, opens his Third Eye, wracks his brain for any distraction techniques real or fictional.

“Yell bomb?”

Akechi shakes his head. “Panic is good, but we'd be at the center of it.”

“Climb on the roof?”

“Dramatic, but not possible in this model of train.” Akechi smirks, “though I have done it before in a Palace.”

Cool. “You could kiss me,” Ren says, before he remembers who exactly the fuck he is talking to.

But Akechi just shakes his head again, “we're both obviously men, it would draw more attention than it would turn away.”

“Oh, right, I forgot we were being chased.”

“Yes, what a funny joke,” Akechi snaps back, practically baring his teeth, and Ren can’t help himself from smiling again.

Akechi’s sneer is a powerful thing. Magic, even. A little gift of honesty, an acknowledgment that whoever he’s sneering at is worthy of his open distaste. Ren is a little dazzled, even here and now (especially here and now), and decides that because Akechi is real and alive and sneering at him, Ren is going to be very lucky.

He brushes his hand across the wall they’re pressed against, up and down and side to side until— _aha._ “How about this?” He says, and flips the inset switch.

The two of them instantly tumble backward as the door to the bathroom slides open behind them, falling over each other in a manner unbefitting of a gentleman thief and a celebrity-hitman-detective-prince. Ren manages to scramble into action first having the benefit of knowing what the fuck just happened—he climbs across the seemingly endless amount of limbs Akechi has, reaches up, and shuts the door with a _click_.

And then they freeze.

Perfectly still, perfectly silent. No matter how uncomfortable. And it is uncomfortable—the bathroom is tiny, with barely enough standing room for one person, and they’re two uncommonly tall men tangled together in a heap on the floor. Akechi’s pointy elbow is digging into Ren’s ribs, Ren’s knee is holding all of his and the Mona-bag’s weight, bruising against the floor, and his other knee is—oh god.

“ _Sorry,”_ Ren mouths, cringing in sympathy.

Poor Akechi, squished up against the side of the toilet bowl and crushed underneath Ren, looks like he would very much like to be dead. “ _It’s. Fine,_ ” he mouths back through gritted teeth.

“ _No, I can…_ ” Ren puts even more weight on his other knee and tries to reorient his limbs.

“ _Don’t—_ ”

“ _Wait, just—_ ”

“ _It’s fine!!_ ”

Ren has never seen anyone shout so effectively without making a sound. He loses his usually impeccable balance and teeters back, just barely managing to wrench his leg up a little higher so this time he only knees Akechi in the stomach. Akechi convulses, doesn’t make a peep, and Ren very carefully doesn’t look at his face. His peripheral vision tells him if there were a way for Akechi to kill him and still remain silent and hidden, he’d take it. Ren kind of can’t blame him.

They stay frozen for a while, really frozen this time, not daring to move for fear of making their situation worse or provoking any interest from outside the bathroom. Ren hears a door slide open, two pairs of footsteps shuffle close, then far away, then close again. And then, finally, the door once more, signaling their hunters have left the train car.

They wait another minute, just to be safe. And then Ren’s face becomes acquainted with the door.

“ _Idiot_ ,” Akechi hisses, pushing and shoving him around until he manages to stand. He gives Ren a little kick for good measure, just light enough to be kind of cute. “Will the indignities never cease.”

“Hey, it worked,” Ren says. He stands up as well and drops the Mona-bag on the tiny bathroom counter, shaking his sore leg as he goes. His knee is definitely going to bruise. “I’m gonna unzip you but you have to be quiet,” Ren mumbles to his bag.

Mona pops his head out, shakes it. “What have you gotten into now,” he says, leveling a glare at Akechi. Ren suspects he’s more grumpy about being excluded from their fun than being trapped in the bag.

“It’s not his fault, he’s trying to get away from Shido’s men.”

“Yes, I assure you I wouldn’t be here if this weren’t my only option.” Akechi crosses his arms. “We can’t stay long. After they finish their sweep of the train cars the very next thing they’ll do is check all the bathrooms.”

Okay. Alright. Ren scans the tiny room. No vents. No window. No secret door, no way out besides out, and there’s no way they’ll last a half hour out there in the open. There’s not even anything they can use in here—just soap, tap water, and various paper products.

“Are you done?” Akechi asks after a moment of his aimless searching. He’s got a gloved hand to his chin, just like he used to. “I’ve got an idea, but I’ll need your cooperation.”

Ren says, “sure,” instead of _what do you think I’ve been doing this entire time?_

“Excellent,” Akechi nods, and then starts unbuttoning his blazer.

Uh.

Akechi tilts his head, loosening his tie now. “Hm? Do you not understand? We’re still approximately the same size, aren’t we?”

Mona pointedly ducks back into his bag.

“Right,” Ren says. Right. And he starts stripping before his brain or any other part of his body can catch up with what’s happening. It’s fine. It’s not weirder than anything else they’ve done together. Ren’s bare arm just brushed up against Akechi’s and now it’s tingling and he still kind of can’t believe Akechi is here at all but—

“Could you—” Akechi makes a frustrated grunt and shoves Ren away from him which in this room, the tiniest room in the entire world, gives him approximately two extra inches to work with. Ren watches Akechi reach for his fly and decides that now is a good time to pull his shirt up over his head because he is not looking, he is not touching, this is normal and absolutely nothing to be weird about, and being weird about it will _make_ it weird, and…

Balled-up pants hit Ren square in the chest, belt and all. “Hurry up, will you?”

“Say please.”

Ah, no, that’s how you make it weird.

“Please, Joker, take off your pants,” Akechi drawls, actual amusement pulling the corners of his mouth up into a smirk. “Or else I am going to die.”

“You’re funny.” Ren hands over his clothes. “I thought that was my job.”

“Getting into character,” Akechi replies simply as he starts dressing himself again. Dressing himself in Ren’s clothes. And now—Ren looks warily down at the assorted, lumpy pile in his hands. Black slacks, white collared shirt, striped tie, iconic blazer. Now this. Once again he lets his body take over, just starts moving before his poor lagging brain can catch up. Akechi doesn’t seem to care about what they’re doing, so neither will Ren. Totally normal. And it’s all fine, they’re just clothes, they smell incredible and they’re not anything to be afraid of… except for this… _stupid_ tie. His Shujin uniform didn’t have one, it’s been a while—

Akechi bats his hands away. “Pathetic,” he says, and whips his own tie off Ren’s neck. He wraps it around the back of the collar again, starting over, while Ren tries to politely look anywhere but Akechi’s face which is very difficult because Akechi is very close, this bathroom is very small and very uninteresting, and Akechi is _wearing Ren’s clothes_. “Honestly, it’s not that difficult,” Akechi says, sliding the knot up and giving the final product a light pat.

Ren looks down, pokes at it himself. “Wow. You did that so fast. Thanks.”

“It’s only a tie,” Akechi mumbles. He reaches to Ren’s sides and pulls his open blazer together, fitting it closed. Gentle fingers work each of the buttons, skimming lightly against Ren’s stomach, and Ren distantly wonders why Akechi is doing this part for him too.

“There,” Akechi brushes a hand down once Ren’s front, twice. “Perfect.”

“You—” Ren coughs, recovers. “You still look like you, though. Just in jeans.”

Akechi turns to the little mirror above the sink, inspects himself. “Hm, you’re right.”

“I’ve got an idea,” he grins.

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“They’re going to recognize you.”

Akechi sighs, hunches forward onto the sink counter and stares at his own reflection like he’s committing it to memory. “Fine.” He whips around to face Ren. “However, the implementation will have to change. That horrid rat’s nest you insisted on giving me is more likely to draw attention than not, and I don’t feel like working out tangles for the next week.”

Without waiting for Ren to say another word he starts messing with his own hair, pushing it around in a sort of half-committal way that’s basically guaranteed to have a poor result. And, of course, that only makes him more frustrated.

Ren lets him struggle a little because it’s cute. Then he grabs his shoulders, turns him around. “Let me.”

Akechi eyes him warily.

“Trust me, with your hair it would be harder to make it look bad.”

Akechi looks like he’s just been told he’s on his way to the gallows. But still he sighs and surrenders, “alright then.”

Okay. Great. Ren peers carefully at him—puts a gloved hand to his chin, just for fun, and thanks to his new detective prince persona he doesn’t miss the way Akechi’s gaze slides away from his face to somewhere in the empty space behind him. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“A middle part will probably work,” Ren says confidently.

“Alright then,” Akechi repeats.

Ren slides Akechi’s gloves off, puts them in his ( _Akechi’s_ ) pants pocket out of habit. He hovers his hands above Akechi’s head, raises his eyebrows, waiting for permission. Akechi hesitates, then ducks his head a little and Ren gets to work.

His hair feels… really nice. Soft. Nothing like Ren’s—the strands slide through his fingers instead of catch, move exactly where he wants them to go and stay there. It doesn’t take long at all to get the shape how he wants, but Ren… lingers. Just a little longer than he should.

“Okay,” he murmurs, tilting Akechi’s head back up with a hand under his chin. “Look at me.”

Akechi does. He looks good. Really good, he always looks good. Perfect actually, but Ren can’t help adjusting how the front parts a little. Then a little more. And again, lets his fingers trail down the sides of Akechi’s face.

“What are you doing,” Akechi says. His voice is flat, his face impassive except—except for a light but unmistakable dusting of pink across his nose and cheeks.

Ren has never seen Akechi blush before.

“I don’t know,” Ren murmurs as his hands move on their own. They bury themselves further into soft hair, slide down to cup flushed cheeks, the heat there stoking a matching flame already building low in his stomach.

Akechi’s eyes flicker to Ren’s lips, he lets out a quiet, shaky breath, and for a moment Ren glimpses a different world—one where two of them weren’t on opposite sides, where the Metaverse didn’t exist, where…

But the two of them aren’t on opposite sides. The Metaverse doesn’t exist. Not anymore. Akechi is real and here and alive so Ren takes that world for himself, closes the tiny gap between them and kisses him. Akechi presses back immediately, insistently, a little too hard in a way that turns out to be perfect, and Ren has this quiet realization that they’ve changed everything. Everything, forever. For the rest of his life.

Strong hands hold him in place, Akechi moving to grasp onto Ren’s shoulders tight enough to bruise, pulling at the fabric of his own blazer. He’s shaking. Ren can feel it in Akechi’s grip, against his lips, warm and soft and wet and _trembling_ —and he isn’t sure exactly when he decided to let Akechi take control, it just sort of happened. Ren surrenders to heat and quiet and nothing, lets Akechi kiss him, again and again—he’s only brought back to something close to real awareness when the heat in his gut spikes and an embarrassing noise that sounds like a gasp escapes his throat, takes him by surprise.

Akechi has his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, has him held in an iron grip, the knot of Akechi’s tie is pressing into the hollow of his throat—Ren is surrounded, controlled, completely possessed by _Akechi_ on every level which is… ha. Uh oh.

This might irrevocably mess him up somehow. It probably already has. That’s fine.

Akechi nudges his mouth open, surprisingly gentle about it, changing Ren’s life for a second time so he counters, surges forward and life changes again for a third, fourth, fifth time as their closeness overwhelms him, as Akechi’s erection presses into his hip, Akechi _moans_ into his mouth and it’s all so much—so much that he starts to feel dizzy from it all, starts thinking that it might be too much—

Akechi jolts. Pulls away. Presses a finger to Ren’s lips.

He stares wide-eyed past Ren at the door behind him and Ren takes his cue to stand still as a statue. He listens too but mostly tries to breathe, tries to figure out what the hell just happened, what’s going to happen now.

If they don’t get killed in the bathroom of a train, of course.

Oh, shit. Ren reels as reality rushes back in, sobering as reality usually is. They’re still on this train. Akechi is still on the run. Ren is still going home.

“It was nothing,” Akechi says after another moment, removing his finger from Ren’s lips. “You should—” he stops, takes a breath, a small sign that Ren isn’t the only one still feeling affected. “You should take off the blazer and carry it. It’s too recognizable.”

“Sure,” Ren says, and starts undoing the buttons Akechi himself had buttoned just a few minutes ago. “Yeah.”

“Alright then.”

Akechi stares at him. His lips are red. Ren did that.

“Alright then,” Akechi repeats in the same tone, like he’s forgotten he already said it once, and reaches for the door.

“Wait—”

Ren rustles through the Mona bag, ignores the frankly atrocious face Mona is giving him, and takes out the glasses he’d discarded at the beginning of the ride. He opens them up, shoves them onto Akechi’s face, and kisses him again all at once.

“There,” Ren says, pulling away after an instant. “Now you’re ready.”

Akechi stares at him again.

“You’re…” he says, before he cuts himself off and shuts his jaw closed with a _click_. And then he leaves.

The rest of the ride is quietly thrilling. Mercifully uneventful. Ren sits beside Akechi and keeps an eye out for the men in black suits, but mostly thinks about how nice it felt to kiss Akechi. Tries to figure out how he can make sure it happens again while he commits to memory how Akechi looks wearing his clothes and glasses, because it’s not even worth lying to himself—he’s absolutely going to jerk off over this later.

The train finally slows, announcer telling them their half hour escape has been successfully completed. “It looks like they’re staying on, so I suppose this is my stop,” Akechi murmurs to Ren.

Wait—no, “wait.” Ren says without thinking. “Come with me—stay, it’ll be safer with two of us.”

Akechi scoffs, like Ren should have known he would. “Don’t patronize me. I don’t need or desire your _protection_ , Joker.”

Something about the words, the tone, the closed-off way Akechi is sitting throws Ren back in time to the worst night of his life. His heart speeds up, throat closing just the same as it did back then—they’ve danced this dance before and Ren already knows nothing he can say will change Akechi’s mind, but. But he has to remember… _has to remember_ , Akechi is real. He’s alive, he’s here. He’s only leaving. He’s not dying. Not disappearing. Ren can see him again, anytime after this. He’ll always be there to help him when he needs it.

He thinks momentarily, stupidly, about joining Akechi instead. Just, fucking off and throwing everything away. Living the life of some sort of romantic wanderer… traveling from hotel to hotel, bringing down evildoers wherever they may be, kissing handsome detectives with soft hair in front of sunsets.

But just like Akechi he has his own path to follow. And he knows best not to deviate from it. Ren holds out Akechi’s blazer, still folded carefully over his arm. “Do you want this?”

“No, keep it. I don’t need it,” he deliberates for a moment. “Give me my gloves back though, those are expensive.”

“Okay.” He does, and in doing so remembers— “oh! My pocket.”

“Your pocket?” Akechi parrots back as he stands, confused. “What is it? I need to leave.”

“No, _my_ …” ah well, nothing for it. Ren sticks his hand down the front of his jeans, the jeans Akechi is still wearing, pulls out Akechi’s old, worn, orphaned glove, and shoves it in the Mona bag before Akechi can see what it was.

Akechi saw what it was.

“Ah,” he says. “Of course.”

He stands there for a moment longer. Turns his head toward the open door. Looks back at Ren, and Ren thinks for one horrible, hopeful moment that he might actually sit back down and stay. But Akechi only bends down, stilted, hesitant, and presses a gentle kiss to the top of Ren’s head. It’s barely a peck, barely anything

Akechi straightens up, adjusts Ren’s glasses, and strides away without a wave or word of farewell. Ren watches him go, and touches the burning spot on his head in disbelief.

He can’t wait to see him again.

* * *

  
Akechi’s clothes are the first thing his parents mention when Ren walks through the front door. How professional and upstanding his collared shirt and tie looks. How this year away clearly was the right choice. How hopefully this means he’s learned to be a proper member of society. It’s hilarious, probably.

His friends text him messages of support from far away. They ask how he’s doing, send him pictures of old times, make hasty plans to visit.

Akechi doesn’t answer any of his texts, but that doesn’t surprise Ren at all.

His parents act like nothing happened. His school acts like nothing happened. His neighbors act like nothing happened—his neighborhood is so damn _quiet_ , his bed is too comfortable, and Ren often daydreams about turning right around and begging Sojiro to let him stay in that dusty old attic after all.

He often daydreams about going to find a certain missing detective, wherever he is now, and begging Akechi to let him stay, too.

He worries about him.

It’s three months later, three months of boredom and loneliness, when Goro Akechi climbs in through his bedroom window in the middle of the night.

He drops down from the sill onto his bed, scares the absolute shit out of Ren without a word or a warning. Akechi looks miserable, sounds half-dead, and says only “my apartment was compromised” before falling asleep right there on top of the sheets, on Ren’s pillow. Immediately asleep, sound asleep.

So… Ren watches him.

He’s not trying to be creepy about it, he really isn’t—he’s just extremely awake because a hitman who already technically murdered him once just broke into his bedroom at two in the morning. And said hitman, it turns out, is very cute when he sleeps.

There’s barely space for him left beside Akechi, on his own bed, rude and selfish as always. It would be so easy to close the tiny gap between them. Ren watches the soft rise and fall of his chest, the twitching of his eyes and nose. He wonders how he’s doing, besides the compromised apartment stuff. What he’s up to, besides sleeping in Ren’s bed. He wants to stay up and ask him everything, wants to hear about everything, but Akechi’s breathing lulls him to sleep. And when he wakes, Akechi is already gone.

He’d think it was all a dream if it weren’t for a little note left on his bedside table. Creased paper and meticulous pen strokes, spelling out: “ _Nice pillowcase, Joker._ ”

Ren’s face burns. He rips Akechi’s shirt off his pillow and throws it across the room, watches it flutter harmlessly to the ground.

Three months without a sign or a word and he was right there, two inches from Ren’s face. And damn it, he needs help, he shouldn’t be on his own—Ren can help him. He’s going to help him. Next time, _next time_ , he’s not going to let Akechi run off so easily.

* * *

“ _Camera’s out! You’re clear, get going._ ”

“Thanks Oracle,” Joker murmurs, just loud enough for his earpiece to pick up. He dashes forward, footfalls silent against shining marble, and slides into position at the entrance to the next hall. “Anything here?”

“ _She’s working on it, sit tight Joker!_ ” Panther’s voice rings loud and clear.

Joker can’t help but smile—at Panther, Oracle, even Skull quietly whining “ _man, wish I could be there too_ ” in the background of his earpiece. All of them really, working together again for old times sake to help him pull off one last “heist” before he graduates and leaves this godforsaken town forever.

“ _Okay, there’s one camera here but I can’t keep it off for long,_ ” Oracle says.“ _You’re heading for the fifth door on your left—there’s an electric lock. I’ll give you the combination to it once you’re there._ ”

“Fifth door on my left,” Joker repeats.

“ _Ready?_ ”

“Go.”

“ _Go!_ ”

He runs, counts off one, two, three, four, five doors and stops in front of the keypad. “Combination,” He prompts, a little more out of breath than he’d like. This is what he gets for not sticking to Skull’s exercise regimen.

“ _72622537_ ,” Oracle says.

Joker punches in the combination. The keypad lights up green and he turns the doorknob, slips inside, closes the door behind him, and finds himself face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.

Ah, that’s a real gun. Attached to a real hitman.

“ _Joker? Joker, did you make it?_ ”

Goro Akechi heaves out a great, dramatic sigh. He opens his mouth to say something and Ren remembers just in time—he puts a finger to his own lips and points to his ear.

“Yup,” Ren says. “Listen, I’m gonna go dark for a bit while I look for this file.”

“ _What? We can help you with that—_ ”

Akechi smirks. He points silently to the mess of papers and documents strewn across the floor, then to the file cabinets behind him. His pistol is still level with Ren’s forehead.

“They’re all physical files, that’s why you couldn’t access them. Seriously, this is gonna be boring. I’ll come back online when I find something,” Ren says, and then switches off his earpiece before anyone else has a chance to protest. “You want to get this gun out of my face?”

“Ah. Right. My apologies.” Akechi doesn’t look sorry at all. He flips on the safety and holsters his weapon at his hip like an afterthought. “You didn’t tell them about me?”

Ren assesses the room, takes in the enormous number of files. This is really going to suck. “I figured you wouldn’t want me to,” he responds with a shrug.

Akechi looks pleased, strutting back to his place on the floor more like a peacock than a crow, so Ren assumes he figured correctly. Ren joins him, rolls his neck for a quick stretch and scans the assorted papers in front of him. Akechi must have been here a while already… how did he get in all by himself?

“I assume we’re here looking for the same thing,” Akechi says, tosses a folder Ren’s way. “You can start with this, it’s the most I’ve found so far.” Then he stands again, leaves Ren to investigate another cabinet near the back of the room.

Hm. Ren flips through the folder. Billing records, receipts, numbers numbers numbers… wait. He glances up again. Yes, he didn’t imagine it, Akechi’s ass really does look that good in those pants. Okay, now that that’s confirmed, concentrate. Numbers. Numbers…

Akechi looks great, he really does. Fantastic, even. Much healthier than when Ren last saw him, all those months back, something like… _eight_ months now, when deep circles were carved out under his closed eyes, his cheeks a little more sharp and hollow than they should have been. Akechi is even taller than he was on the train, more filled out. They probably aren’t the same size anymore which is… fine. His hair seems just a little longer now too, settled on his shoulders and striking against the black sweater he’s wearing. And those pants…

“Take a picture, Joker,” Akechi drawls, not even looking up from whatever file he’s got now. “It’ll last longer.”

Ren pulls out his phone. “Strike a pose.”

Akechi does. He places the file in his hand down to toss up a peace sign instead and flips Ren the bird with the other hand. And he sticks his ass out just the tiniest bit more, just enough for Ren to notice.

“How long should that do it for you?”

“Only until I see you next,” Ren says without shame.

He drops Akechi’s useless folder on the ground stalks toward a better, much more interesting prey. His adrenaline is still going, pumping courage in his veins from sneaking into city hall and having a gun pulled on him and he hasn’t seen Akechi for months, hasn’t properly seen him for nearly a full year. So… caution and sense aren’t exactly high on his list of priorities. Ren brushes Akechi’s long, soft ( _soft soft soft_ ) hair to the side, presses a kiss to the back of his neck.

Akechi tilts his head back and shivers, “that hung up on me, are you?”

“You ruined me,” Ren murmurs against heated skin, buries his nose against him and basks in his familiar scent. He slides his arms around Akechi’s waist, drags them back to palm his ass. “And then you left me.”

“Ruined?” Akechi scoffs, but still leans into Ren’s touch. “Your standards are astonishingly low, we barely did a thing.”

Ren frowns. Steps away, flicks Akechi’s hair back into place. “I don’t mean the train,” he grumbles. “I mean all of it.”

There’s a pause, too long of an empty silence. Akechi doesn’t even look at him when he finally says “all of what,” in a flat, dead tone.

Playing dumb. As if either of them are stupid enough to believe it. As if none of it mattered to him at all—did it even matter—oh. Oh, Ren is angry with him, isn’t he? He’s _furious_ with him.

“Where have you been? What the hell have you been doing? You don’t answer any of my messages—it’s been a _year.”_

Akechi’s expression twists. He slams the file cabinet shut with a concussive bang, heavy weighted metal rocking back and forth against the ground from the force of it. “How is what I do with my life any of your business?” He shouts, matching Ren’s fury easily.

If this were anyone else, literally anyone else, Ren would stop. He’d calm down, center himself, and remind them that while it’s not his business, they’re important to him. If this were anyone else he’d never be angry in the first place and it would be so easy to tell them he cares for them, he loves them, and so of course he just wants to know that they’re okay.

But Goro Akechi has always been special.

“Because I—” Ren starts, and then his throat closes up.

Akechi looks terrified. Not in a normal human way, of course not, but in his Akechi-way. Refusing eye contact, arms wrapped around himself, putting on a sneer but a fake one, a false one. Ren missed him _so much_.

Ren tries again. Can’t find his words. Digs into his pocket, pulls out a sad, crushed little glove. “I—I carry this stupid thing around with me, all the time. The only wish I had was you, I...” his useless voice cracks and Ren is doubting everything now, every wasted second he spent thinking of someone who didn’t even—but Akechi does care, he can _see_ it.

“Don’t strain yourself, Joker, your hero complex is showing. Did it truly take you this long to realize I’m not as… _obsessed_ with you in the same manner you clearly are with me.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Am I?” Akechi snarls, stalks forward toward him. “I told you I hated you, I never wanted to see you again—you don’t think I spend my days celebrating life without you? You don’t think I wonder what the hell kind of vengeful deity I pissed off enough to bestow upon me the great misfortune of having crossed paths with you in the first place?”

“So you do think of me,” Ren hisses.

“Oh, I think of you.” Akechi enunciates every syllable as if they’d been rehearsed. He’s noticeably taller than him now, uses the full effect to loom over Ren in a way that might be intimidating if he weren’t also still Goro Akechi. “I think of what I should have done a long time ago, the job I never finished. I think of getting rid of you forever, ending your sorry influence on my life completely—it’s a damn lucky thing for you that your dear old friend Maruki didn’t deem my desires worthy of actualizing, else you’d be gone from existence _entirely!_ ”

“And then where would you be? You talk big but every time you need help who do you turn to?” Ren shouts, pulls Akechi’s gun from his holster in a single smooth motion and shoves it into Akechi’s hands, holds the whole damn charade up to his own head. “You want me dead? Why don’t you do it, you _coward_ , see how long you survive without me!”

The world pauses, narrows to Akechi, Ren, and the pistol between them. Cold eyes stare into his, cold metal presses into his forehead and Akechi’s voice turns deadly soft, quiet, when he answers: “don’t tempt me, Ren,”

“Then do it,” Ren dares, grip tightening around Akechi’s wrist.

“I’ve done this once already—”

“Do it again.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to you—”

“You want me gone?”

“Don’t underestimate me—!”

“Then _kill me!_ ”

“ _Shut up!!_ ”

Akechi pulls the trigger.

The last sound Ren hears is a tiny little _click._ Then he takes a breath. Another. A third.

He’s still alive. Goro Akechi shot him, again, and here he is still alive. Again. Ren’s grip loosens on Akechi’s wrist, all his stupid, pointless rage drained out of him. The pistol falls out of view as Akechi carelessly lets the thing drop to the floor.

“It’s not loaded, idiot.” Akechi says, quiet again, but this time with something that sounds more like fondness than malice. “Where the hell do you think would I get bullets?”

“Don’t know. Don’t know anything about you anymore,” he croaks in response. “Shit. This isn’t how I wanted this to go at all.”

Akechi kisses him. Ren wraps his arms around his neck, kisses him back.

And he was mostly joking back then—before he got all inundated with useless feelings, back when he’d said Akechi had ruined him. But maybe he has. Time dulled his memory of their brief little rendezvous on the train but now it’s returned in full force, and of course no one kisses like Akechi does. Obviously no one can compare. Messy and wild and pressing against him just a little too hard, holding him to his chest with just enough force to make it difficult to breathe and trembling, shaking like—

“You’re holding back, Akechi,” Ren mumbles against his lips when they break for air. Akechi doesn’t respond, dives into the crook of Ren’s neck instead and Ren decides he can leave it, there’s really nothing else worth thinking about right now. Akechi licks a strip up to the sensitive area behind his ear, ticklish in a way that makes Ren cringe and yelp. And then he _bites_.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough, Ren decides right then. How could this be enough? He needs to feel Akechi against him again, needs to hear him cry out in pleasure again, needs more than a revisit of year-old memories. He needs to get this stupid sweater off Akechi and definitely not wear it himself and he needs—Ren reaches down, takes two handfuls of Akechi’s perfect ass and grinds their erections together.

“Ah, _Ren_ ,” Akechi moans, so Ren does it again.

Images, ideas flash through his mind—old fantasies, infinite possibilities. Ren on his knees, Akechi writhing beneath him, _Akechi_ on his knees or—or on top of him, surrounding him, possessing him in every way imaginable. Anything, everything, it’s been a year but now Ren finally has him.

“Ren,” Akechi says. He licks into his mouth, sucks on Ren’s bottom lip—a favorite move of his, Ren knows by now. “Ren, think about where we are.”

“Yeah. There’s a desk over there,” Ren says, and his fantasies become that much more specific.

Akechi groans, hips spasming forward. “This is going to be a crime scene.”

“ _Yeah._ ”

“We can’t.”

No, come on. “If it’s evidence you’re worried about…” Ren slips a hand between them, finds Akechi’s cock straining against his slacks, presses the heel of his hand into him and feels him react. “I can think of a few ways to take care of that.” And, okay, maybe he’s being a bit over-the-top but this is better than his first idea of getting down on his knees and begging Akechi to let him suck him off. Actually that sounds hot, maybe he’ll do that anyway—

“We have a job to do, remember?”

Ah… fuck. Ren stops. The magic words. There’s that sobering reality again.

He collapses forward, presses his forehead into the warmth of Akechi’s shoulder and does not whine at all.

They can’t. Ren only has so long he can be here—this job is _really_ important. He can’t let the shit that’s happening in this town to continue unabated. He can’t, not when they’d made such careful plans to stop it, when all of his teammates are counting on him…

It’s not fair. Akechi is finally right here in front of him, perfect in every way, and yet Ren still can’t have him.

“I hate you,” he sighs.

“Hm,” Akechi pets his hair. His fingers almost immediately get caught in the tangles. “I hate you too.”

Ren straightens up, takes in the weight of Akechi’s breath, the flush of his cheeks. He cups his face with a careful hand, feels that heat for himself.

It’s so easy to imagine a life with him. It probably shouldn’t be this easy considering… everything. But it is. “You can come back to me after this. I’d wait for you if you asked.”

“You shouldn’t,” is all Akechi tells him in return, and then he walks away. Starts shuffling in the same file cabinet he was looking in before. That’s it. Break over. Back to work. God, what a night. Ren adjusts himself, tries to put the uncomfortable, growing ache out of mind, and joins Akechi at the files.

They find what they’re looking for, eventually. It’s excruciatingly boring—Ren knew it was going to be bad when he decided to do this in the first place, knew when Oracle told him she couldn’t find the files herself, knew when he stepped into the room and found a devastatingly handsome man and bunch of files and it was the damn files he was there for. He always figured that any task could be improved with a little eye candy, but this? This is just cruel.

Akechi snaps some photos for himself, silently hands over the evidence for Ren to take and keep. He only speaks again after Ren digs into his bag, finds the calling card Fox had so nicely prepared for him and places it on the desk.

“Really?”

Ren puts his hands in his pockets, tilts his head in question.

“You turned yourself in. There are people out there that know the identity of the leader of the Phantom Thieves.”

“Yeah,” Ren shrugs. “And if they want me they can come find me.”

“You’re a fool.”

“Could be your fool.”

That only earns him an extended, dramatic, frankly uncalled-for eye roll. Ren stares a moment at the little red and black paper on the desk and… well, it’s done now. Mission complete. Except for the escaping, but that part is pretty boring now that the whole world doesn’t collapse while he does it.

Akechi is prepping to leave too—gathering his things, scanning the room to make sure they didn’t leave anything more incriminating than a calling card. “I have my plans, I’m sure you have yours. Why don’t we agree to each follow through on them and forget this funny little coincidence ever happened,” he says.

Dread is already curling in Ren’s stomach at the prospect of separating without any idea of when they’ll see each other again. But still he nods. This is how it is between them now. That can be okay. Akechi is the most capable person he’s ever met, Ren was stupid to forget that. He really has no good reason to worry for him. As long as he’s happy… and besides, something about what Akechi said is bothering him.

“This is my hometown, you know that,” Ren says. “You picked tonight of all nights to come here and do this.”

Akechi fiddles with a small bag on he’s just slung over shoulder. He doesn’t look at Ren. “And?”

“Quite a coincidence,” Ren hums, not bothering to hide the grin stretching across his face. Akechi looks at him this time—impassive, blank, and betrayed once again by the pink coloring his cheeks.

“Ren,” he says. Pauses. Closes his eyes. “The next time we see each other…” he’s silent for another moment, then nods to himself, opens his eyes and looks directly at Ren. “When I see you next, I’ll be ready. I’ll stay, if that’s what you still want.”

If Ren weren’t so used to being surprised by Akechi this might have knocked him right out, might have killed him for a third time. Something of this magnitude, coming from him… “you can’t promise me that,” Ren says, to give Akechi an out.

Maybe… to give himself an out too. He’s wanted Akechi for so long that he doesn’t know what will happen when he finally has him. It’s one thing imagining, so easy to imagine. Completely another to have the reality of it within his grasp.

Akechi doesn’t seem to care. “I won’t promise you,” he says, waving a hand in the air. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. Maybe I won’t ever see you again. Don’t wait for me.”

That sounds more like him. “The next time I see you?”

Akechi smirks. He holds up something small and plastic in his hand, clicks it, and disappears from sight as all the lights in the building flicker out, plunging them into darkness.

“You’d better run, thief!”

* * *

  
He doesn’t see Goro Akechi for two years after that.

* * *

Ren concentrates. It’s careful work to keep this sort of smile held up on his face. Not too big, not too small. Don’t let it reach the eyes or else she’ll think he’s telling the truth when he politely says: “I had a lovely time, thank you for joining me tonight.”

Hina nods her head, eyes sparkling in a way that is… not encouraging. “As did I,” she says. And then she waits.

The city nightlife is unhelpfully quiet. Crickets chirping, soft lamplight and stars above them, Hina’s apartment complex door just _right_ there. She’s still staring up at him with too much hope in her eyes and Ren entertains spending the night with her just to avoid the awkwardness of telling her he’s leaving now.

But that would be worse and more cruel in the long run. He had to learn that lesson the hard way.

“I’ll… see you around school?”

“Oh,” Hina says. She finally gets it and Ren would very much like to sink into the floor. She was nice and sweet. She was fine. She just wasn’t for him. Dating is horrific. “Yes. Um, thank you again for dinner.” She bows, then scurries toward the door. “See you.”

Ren nods. He watches her open the door… disappear inside the complex… close the door… one more second… and heaves out an exhausted sigh. What a _night_. He turns, strides off back into the city, leaves the crickets and the lamplight and the stars behind him and pulls out his phone, because at least this all will make an entertaining story for Ryuji.

“Struck out?”

Oh. What a night.

Ren’s heart starts again—pumping color and light and life back into the world. Anticipation, excitement… could that be fear he’s feeling? He always felt most alive when the stakes were high.

Akechi told him not to wait. His wait is finally over.

“Or let me guess…” Akechi says, right there behind him when Ren turns around. His hand is to his chin. “She spent too much time regaling you with the exploits of her lawyer father and turned you off.”

Exactly how long has Akechi been following him? He can’t help but laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it, giddy and stupid, picturing Akechi lurking in the shadows, taking notes, Ren completely oblivious all the while. He must be getting rusty again. Or, the likelier option: Akechi is just that good.

Ren joins him, walks in step. It’s so easy, like no time passed at all.

“Your hair is shorter,” Ren says, reaching up to flick an errant lock. Akechi slaps it back down, combs through his hair with his fingers… self-consciously? Cute.

“Ah, yes. I had to cut it for an undercover—well, anyway. I’d hoped to give it more time to grow out before I saw you.”

Couldn’t wait, huh?

Ren stares openly at him as they walk, not even bothering to be subtle about it. He’s seen so many Goro Akechi’s over the years—fake, furious, frightened, and nearly everything in between. This one is new, too. “Akechi,” Ren hums fondly, just to say it.

Akechi eyes flicker over to meet him. “Why do you call me that? Akechi. I call you Ren, why don’t you call me by my given name? I’ve always wondered.“

Oh. Ren blinks. Why doesn’t he? It’s been so long he can barely remember. “You never asked. I didn’t want to push you.”

“Well, you should. Push me. That’s what rivals do, isn’t it?”

 _Are you mine? Am I finally yours?_ “We’re still rivals, Goro?”

The name feels good. Goro. _Goro_. Goro’s wide eyes feel even better. “If you still… want that,” he says carefully.

“I do.”

“Alright then.”

There are so many things he wants to ask Goro, so many things he wants to tell him. All of his questions and stories and jokes sit on the back of his tongue, waiting to be used. Ren has had two years to prepare for this moment and he’s so ready, beyond ready.

“My apartment is close,” is what comes out of his mouth instead.

Goro grabs Ren’s wrist and changes their direction, turns them down a side street which absolutely leads to Ren’s complex. Incredible. Ren really did pick the nosiest, creepiest guy in the world, didn’t he?

He picked him. Goro Akechi is here. Goro Akechi is staying. Ren is going to spend the night with Goro Akechi.

Okay. Okay.

They reach his door without incident and Ren’s hand shakes a little as he digs in his pocket. He squeezes the misshapen leather inside, takes a breath, finds his key. Goro stands behind him while he unlocks the door and doesn’t say a word.

They step into Ren’s small, shitty, earth-shatteringly quiet apartment and Ren is having a little bit of a crisis now because for all his goddamn useless fantasizing he never managed to think through this part. Never thought about how to get from point A to point B, from Goro standing in his apartment to Goro in his bed. It was never a problem with other people because Ren didn’t really… care what other people thought of him. And it was never a problem with him and Goro because it always just sort of happened without a thought.

This is different. They’re both choosing to be here, right now—there’s no imminent threat. No deadline. Just them.

Goro steps closer behind him. A shiver runs down his spine, hair raises on the back of his neck. “This is the point of no return,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Ren’s nape. “Are you backing down?”

Ah. Never mind. There it is. Ren turns, grabs Goro’s face and kisses him hard.

No one kisses like Goro does. Obviously no one can compare. Ren has had a few years to figure out why but the answer turned out to be simple: Goro Akechi has the highest goddamn standards on the entire planet. And Ren is his rival. Ren can never allow himself to be a disappointment in Goro’s eyes and the closer he gets the less room for error he’s got. Being this close... it’s like being put on display. Constant scrutiny. It’s perfect.

A solid arm wraps around his back. Ren groans, grabs him by the collar. “Take off your clothes or I’m going to die.”

Goro smirks. “Say please.”

Ren rips off his jacket.

They move very naturally from there—making out, tripping over Ren’s kotatsu, making out again, knocking over a shelf of stupid plastic trinkets. It doesn’t take long (only four years, give or take a few months) before he’s straddling a very naked Goro Akechi on his mattress. Finally. _Finally_.

A very naked, very impatient Goro Akechi. “Do you intend to make me wait forever?”

“I’m enjoying the view,” Ren says, tracing a finger down Goro’s already heaving chest. He’s just so…

“Yes, I’m very handsome.” Goro smacks his hand down flat, practically growls at him. “Now hurry up and make your move or _I will_.”

“You know what I like about you? How patient and modest you are.” Ren snarks but slides down nonetheless, watching Goro watching him all the while.

Nothing changes in his expression as Ren mouths at the head of his cock, takes him into his mouth. Nothing at all, except the intensity of his gaze and the steadily reddening flush in his cheeks. But that’s enough.

If there’s anything Ren can do it’s put on a show. And that’s what sucking cock is at the end of the day: performance art. He gives it his best, movements made confident by experience, matching fantasies he’s held close to his heart for years. He pays close attention to Goro’s breath, the slightest movement of his legs, his hands. Only once he’s certain he’s gotten Goro good and worked up does he unleash his coup-de-grace—taking him down to the hilt and swallowing around him once, twice. Ren resurfaces slowly, carefully, just enough so he has enough of an angle meet Goro’s eyes.

Goro stares back at him. The cock in his mouth pulses, precum beading on his tongue, and Ren lets him slip out of his mouth, cock falling heavy back onto Goro’s stomach.

Ren licks his lips.

Goro takes his opportunity to state the obvious: “you’re such a show-off.” And Ren had just been about to catch his breath again when Goro grabs him, flips them over in a single smooth motion.

Okay, ha, show’s over.

Ren wiggles against his mattress, tries to get comfortable while Goro settles between his legs. He likes what comes after this, thinks it’s worth dealing with this awkwardness, but... he turns his face to the side, hides a grimace, and waits for his body to acclimate so they can get to the good part.

“Is this good?” Goro murmurs. He presses a kiss to Ren’s inner thigh, which is sweet of him.

“Mhm.”

“How does it feel?”

“Mm,” he hums, tries to be convincing.

Goro stops, because he’s the _worst_. “Ren. I want this to be good for you and I can’t do that unless you talk to me.”

Somehow asking is more humiliating than anything else. It’s good, it’s good enough, why can’t good be enough for Goro Akechi? Ren’s face burns as he mumbles: “a little higher?”

“Like this?” Goro presses his fingers up, still working them in and out, and. Oh. That _is_ better. That’s close.

“More. Left—” Ren adds before he loses his nerve. He gets it wrong. “No, right,” and Goro’s next thrust is. It’s. Ren grinds his teeth, tightens his jaw to keep in any and all embarrassing sounds trying to fight their way out.

His eyes are shut too—he doesn’t know when he closed them, but he can still see Goro’s insufferably pleased expression behind his eyelids when he slides in again, curls his fingers in exactly the right way and says, “here? This feels good?”

Yes, fuck, _yes_ it feels good. It feels perfect. Feels like when he does this himself, precision, practice, except it’s not him. It’s not him, his hands are fisted in the fabric of his pillow instead of between his legs.

“Ren?”

“ _Yes!_ Yes,” he shouts with a voice that barely resembles his own. Ren shuts his eyes closed even harder, feels more than sees the stars exploding behind them. “Yes, _Akechi—_ ”

Goro’s rhythm falters. He leans his head against Ren’s thigh, takes a few deliberate breaths.

“I’m going to—”

“Yeah,” Ren says immediately, because he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to last. “Do it.”

He’s still flustered, dazed, scatterbrained by the time Goro finishes prepping himself, but he returns to his body well enough to open his eyes and keep them that way. This is important—he needs to remember this. Goro presses his forehead against Ren’s, pushes in slowly, surprisingly gentle about it, and Ren’s life changes for the... oh, he’s lost count by now.

They fall into an easy rhythm and it’s good. It’s nice. Goro is still shaking.

“You’re holding back,” Ren says, breathing deep in time with slow, careful thrusts. “I can take it, you know I can.”

Goro stares down at him, shocked, as if this were anything new for either of them. “You... Joker— _Ren_ ,” he says, dipping down for a too-hard kiss and then snapping his hips forward, pushing Ren up the bed from the force of it. “ _Ren,_ ” he says again, over Ren’s surprised cry. “Ren, is this it? Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” fingers are digging into his thigh, nails nearly piercing skin but it’s solid, controlled, stable. No more trembling, no more holding back, “ _yes_.”

“Tell me how good it is,” Goro snarls, desperate and pleading and so, _so_ good.

“Goro,” Ren tries.

“Tell me you like it!”

“Goro—”

His entire body jolts as Goro hitches Ren’s leg up higher onto his shoulder, never pausing his merciless pace. He wraps a hand around Ren’s length, pumps him hard, fast, _too hard, too fast._ “Ren, tell me—!”

“Good, you’re good!” All embarrassment forgotten—he’ll say whatever the hell Goro wants to hear as long as he keeps fucking him like this, as long as he keeps looking at him like this, as long as he stays above him, around him, within him, possessing him in every way imaginable. “You’re perfect, you’re so good, I’m yours, Goro— _ah_ —yours, _Goro!_ ”

“ _Please!_ ” Goro keens like he’s dying. His eyes squeeze shut, tears falling onto Ren’s cheeks and—that’s what does it. Ren isn’t sure what he says when he comes but he does say something, darkness returning to envelop him as his eyes shut and block out everything else.

He returns to his body slowly. In time, at least, to feel Goro finish grinding out his own release inside him, face shoved deep into the pillow right beside Ren. Ren turns his head… more like lets it drop, really, he doesn’t think he has the energy to purposely move a single muscle right now, and listens to Goro’s hitching breaths, quiet gasps not quite muffled enough to be inaudible.

They stay like that for a while, silent and still. Goro’s body presses Ren down into his mattress like a heated, weighted... sweaty blanket. Eventually their breathing manages to return to something approaching normal and Goro extracts himself from the pillow, facing the side opposite Ren as if he could hide anything right now. He hurriedly wipes his eyes, grits his teeth, and pulls out.

Ren blinks languidly up at him. Takes in his reddened eyes, the tear tracks he couldn’t quite get rid of. Cute. “Come here,” he murmurs, grabbing at him to pull him in for one last kiss. “I’m glad you didn’t hold back.”

Goro huffs, makes a weak attempt at rolling his eyes. He seems too tired to speak, which is a first. In fact he doesn't talk at all while they clean up, not until they settle back down on the bed to rest. Ren shoves his face into Goro’s hair, holds him close to his chest until he’s ready. It doesn’t take long.

“So now what?”

“Hm?”

Goro turns around to face Ren on the bed, levels him with a serious stare. “What do you want me to do now?”

“Mm… stay the night?” Ren is too tired to think on his level. “You’re comfy.”

Pinched brow. Wrong answer. “You know perfectly well what I mean.”

He kind of doesn’t. But he’s seen this body language from Goro before—stiff, tense, not quite looking at him. Okay. His heart pounds a little harder. Hadn’t Goro said he’d be ready? “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“What?”

Is he really… Ren can’t help but laugh at how terrified he is now, the ridiculousness of it. Didn’t Goro know what he was getting into? Is this why it took him so long to come back? “You’re acting like this is a death sentence—Goro, when I asked you to stay I didn’t mean… do you know what a relationship is?”

“Of course I do,” Goro responds adamantly, so completely full of shit.

Ren takes his hands, presses a kiss to his knuckles. _This is Goro Akechi_ , he repeats in his head, an old mantra. _He’s here, he’s real, he’s alive._ Ren feels more calm when he asks: “what did you do before this?”

“Various things.”

“Okay, keep doing that.”

Goro doesn’t look like he believes him, but it’s kind of hard to tell because he also looks half-asleep. “What if I change my mind? Decide to travel to… Norway?”

 _Norway?_ Ren very carefully does not laugh at him. “Sounds like fun. I could come with you,” Ren scoots forward to bump their noses together. “Or I could give you a hell of a welcome when you come home.”

“Home…” Goro lets his eyes fall closed. “Alright then,” he mumbles.

Ren watches him. He doesn’t want to say this part, his heart twists to even imagine it, but it’s important. The most important. “And if you want to leave… if you don’t want to stay, you can do that too.”

Goro doesn’t respond, but that doesn’t surprise Ren at all.

He watches the soft rise and fall of Goro’s chest, the twitching of his eyes and nose. He wants to stay up and ask him everything, wants to hear about everything, but his breathing lulls him to sleep.

All Ren can do is hope Goro will still be there when he wakes.


End file.
